100 Books Like Little Fish

This book gripped me from the opening page. It’s everything I usually avoid—comics, suspense, memoir, psychology article—but the way it's calibrated invited me in, then wouldn’t let me leave until I’d lapped up every detail. By setting up her childhood review as a mystery that has to be solved through visual exploration, Alison Bechdel justifies every choice she makes. And they are all correct.

With deadpan humor and wry drawings, Fun Home gave me a thickly layered exploration of how queer elements impacted generations of her family. It never felt navel-gazing, and I found it impossible to imagine the story told any other way than in a graphics.

The sardonic humor is what grabbed me first. But as I gleefully zipped through this story of a lesbian’s coming of age in a repressive Pentecostal church, the author was quietly raising the stakes. She delivers profound observations of how family expectations disproportionately damage queer people. Religion always complicates such stories.

As a gay man who grew up Catholic, I was entranced by how the book deals with faith. When the protagonist starts to understand her own sexual impulses, the power and depth of human emotion also dawn on her. Her religion and family don’t have satisfying answers, and so she creates her own kind of faith. Reading how she does it was incredibly moving for me. 

This novel was like gravity; I felt like the author dropped me into the 70-year storyline, and I was powerless to stop myself from falling through its many layers. Each character was so vivid and whole that I cared deeply for each of them.

The connections between the different generations of gay men made me feel like I—a queer author myself—was part of a spanning, meaningful history full of ache, loss, love, and humor. 

I love any work that can draw me in by being uncanny while still being emotional. This book is such a work. It's the story of a gay bar that houses a community of cross-generational queer people who become close-knit while the world outside becomes more and more hostile to them.

Though he tells the story with distance and coldness, Neil Bartlett made me feel like I belonged in that bar, in that community. Reading how the characters clutch at meaning and love, how they embrace who they are, and how they support one another had me rooting for them (and for myself) louder every time I turned a page.

Sadia Shepard is the child of a white Protestant father from Colorado and a Muslim mother from Pakistan, who grew up outside Boston. In her visionary and moving memoir, she embarks on a search for her Bene Israel roots when her maternal grandmother, who she thought was a Muslim from Pakistan like everyone else in their family, tells her that her real name is Rachel Jacobs.

She hears about the Bene Israel community and reads about their origins. It's a fascinating account of a cross-cultural childhood, a journey to India to explore her grandmother’s family tree, discovering the secrets of her grandparents’ marriage, encountering the complicated history of India and Pakistan and the Partition, and at the same time, making sense of her complex influences and legacy. The author undertakes journeys on several levels that delve into her family history, her ancestors, her grandmother’s story, and her own identity.

What… show more.

I feel like I am being hugged by a friend when I read Ronnie Riley’s work. The world within this book is so full of friendship and support, so focused on affirming language around both identity and neurodiversity, that I was grateful to have it in my hands.

Jude’s ADHD is written in a way that makes it easy for those without ADHD to understand and affirming for those who are living with it. 

The Light From Uncommon Stars is, at its sci-fi core, a story about being human and all of the messiness that comes from that state of being.

Even the aliens share a sweet humanness – a desire to find home, to find love, to find family. Plus, you can never go wrong with a donut-shop setting. This book is queer and gender-expansive, with all the beauty and trauma that comes with each.

I wouldn’t call this book cozy – and it’s worth noting that not all of the queer characters are “good queers”, but it isn’t gritty or dark – it is what it is, and isn’t that the most beautifully human thing it could be?

I absolutely love the magical, fantastical, and treacherous world that Brand Mull created in this book. The story of Kendra and her brother Seth being shipped off to their grandparents, who they hardly know, in a very strange place they've never been and rules that don't make sense, creates that perfect recipe for discovery, mishap, and victory.

We've seen this format before, but this time it feels different. I especially love the way the siblings work together, each with special gifts that get them both in and out of trouble along the way, not to mention the way the creatures in this book are portrayed with creativity and a little darkness that's very unexpected and incredibly entertaining. 

This is a fictional story about a boy searching for his Gramps’s favorite bird during the Christmas Bird Count. 

I’m sure there are many young readers who don’t think they know enough to participate in something so grand as the Christmas Bird Count. But I’m confident that this book will reassure them that they know more than they think as they confidently identify the birds deftly illustrated by Maria Luisa Di Gravio. Lisa Amstutz, the author, has also included in the backmatter a birding checklist to get little bird nerds started. I think this story will inspire a lot of families to start their own birding tradition.

This is a love story to grandparents everywhere but what I find interesting is that this story features the grandfather as the main character, and not the child. I love this story because it shows the grandfather being humble and feeling blessed as he does not quite understand why his grandchildren believe him to be the greatest at everything - for surely he is no Mozart when it comes to music, or Picasso when it comes to drawing. Even when his grandchildren exclaim he is the greatest storyteller, the grandfather looks back at those who came before him and taught him to tell stories, and lead a seder, and gives his ancestors the credit.

I absolutely love how the grandfather grapples with whether to tell the grandkids all of this - that he is really not that special at all - but then realizes that it is the LOVE that… show more.